Smoke and Music Notes
by SunsetGirl19
Summary: SEQUEL to Snares and Strawberries. When Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne return victorious from the 74th Hunger Games, they begin to piece together the shards of their lives. Not a good summary, but please read and review!
1. Music Sheets and Crusts of Bread

_**Hello everyone! I'm to finally be finished with the first chapter of the sequel to Snares and Strawberries! I hope everyone is happy with it as they were with the first one! A big thank you to everyone who has stuck with me since the beginning and has asked about the sequel, I know it took a little longer then I original thought it would. A huge thank you to my beta MirageMeister! Without further ado, the first chapter to Smoke and Music Notes! **_

_Chapter 1_

My fingers dance over the keys, pressing firmly on the porcelain under my fingers. My eyes stay shut as the music flows out of the piano, my cheeks still damp with fresh tears. They never really stop anymore, the relentless stream of salty tears that leak from my eyes without my permission. I play faster, hitting the keys with more force than necessary, drowning out the silence and emptiness that surrounds me.

I hear loud footsteps walking up to my porch and someone slowly opening the door. I don't turn, don't welcome them into my new home, don't offer my visitor tea or lemonade. I'm not the polite hostess I was raised to be; I just keep my fingers on the keys, keep my eyes closed tight.

"Madge?"

I don't respond, pressing on the keys faster and harder. I feel a soft hand on my shoulder, gently urging me to turn around. I close my eyes tighter, the notes pouring out of me as the song lifts to its final measure, and my hands become still over the keyboard.

Strong hands lift me up off of the piano bench and into their arms. I curl up automatically in his arms as he carries me bridal style over to the plush couch that sits in the living room opposite of the piano. My eyes are still closed as he sits down, rubbing circles on my back to try to soothe me.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" I give my head a small nod but it's not enough to satisfy him.

He pulls me into an almost sitting position, forcing me to look at him. He wipes my tear stained cheeks dry, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I tried," I tell him honestly, my voice cracking from my tears. "I really did, but I-I couldn't. Not for long, not here by myself. I'm sorry, Peeta."

He shakes his head at me, his cobalt eyes soft and worried as he looks at me. "Don't be sorry Madgie," he says using his childhood nickname for me.

I nod once, looking down at my lap.

"Are you hungry? I brought some fresh loaves for you." He gets up without waiting for my response, helping me up from the sofa. He walks in front of me to the kitchen where I can see two loaves of bread still hot sitting on the counter.

I sit on one of the tall bar seats that sits around the kitchen counter nibbling on a slice of bread Peeta cuts for me.

It's been two weeks since the cameras left and he's been the only one I can count on. The day we got off the train, bombarded with camera and reporters I had never felt so completely alone.

Victors are usually greeted at the platform by their families standing off to the side next to the reporters but while the Hawthorne's where practically jumping up and down in excitement, my family was standing in the middle of the crowd on a small raised platform, where the mayor and his family always stand to welcome the victor home. And while my mother's and father's smiles were wonderful to see, it stung that I had to watch as Hazelle Hawthorne tried to restrain herself and her children from jumping onto their brother while my family stood gracefully in the crowd of people.

But then I heard an all too familiar voice calling my name, and the fake smile on my face turned into a genuine one. It only took a moment to find Peeta in the throng of people, and when I finally spotted his smiling face I couldn't help myself. I let go of Gale's hand, rushing down the platform steps and ran through the crowd of people that parted as I passed them, making way for their newest victor. When I reached him, I flung myself into his awaiting arms, laughing and crying all at once as he held me tight, picking me off the floor and even twirling me around once.

"You did it Madgie. You did it," he whispered in my ear.

I grinned up at him until I saw Haymitch's face behind him, his grey eyes glaring at me, silently cursing at me to get back on stage. I hugged Peeta once more but he must have felt the shift in my demeanor because he quickly put me back on the floor, his smile still intact but no longer reaching his eyes. I walked briskly back to the platform, making a joke that wasn't really funny about being so glad to be home. The reporters laughed at my lame joke and Gale grabbed my hand tightly, looking at me with what could only be a warning glare hidden behind a smile. I didn't bothering giving him any kind of response, but I did not let go of his hand again.

"You alright?" Peeta asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Of course," I say quickly, trying my best to give him a smile. He sees right through it: of course, he knows me too well to be fooled.

"You need rest Madge, it looks like you haven't slept in days." He looks up past my head at something, and I follow his gaze to where the piano stands in the living room. It's a mess, dozens of sheets of music scattered around it.

"It's soothing," I say quietly, ashamed that my best friend has to see me like this.

He sighs, coming to sit on the stool next to mine. "I know it is, and I'm glad you have an outlet, but you need to sleep; you need rest."

"I slept yesterday."

He already knows, of course; he was here when I dozed off in the middle of our conversation. It seems that the only time I've been able to sleep has been when Peeta is around. If not, I always wake up screaming, nightmares of pink birds and little girls with spears in their stomach plaguing my unconscious mind.

"It's too quiet here," I tell him.

That's too true. The house in Victors Village where I am now forced to reside is nearly twice as big as the house I grew up in. And the Mayor's mansion is the largest in the District so needless to say it's an unnecessarily large house. And, of course, I'm here all alone.

My father, being the Mayor, is not allowed to move out of the Mayor's mansion unless he wishes to resign, and my mother is too weak to live here, not that I think she would leave even if she could. Ever since Maysilee left she's been in a deep depression. She hasn't said a thing to me about it, but I can see it in her eyes how much she misses her. I wish she could see how much I miss my aunt too, how much I need my mother right now.

"So," Peeta says conversationally, knowing that I'll appreciate a change of subject. "What do you want to do today?"

I shrug, taking another bite of the slice of bread. "I don't know. Can we go to the bakery?"

Most would scoff at the idea of spending yet another day at the place where their forced to work, but Peeta just smiles and nods, asking me if I'm done. "Just give me a second to get ready."

He nods again and I take off upstairs to the master bedroom, my room. I strip out of the pajamas I'm wearing, taking a glance in the mirror that hangs on my wall. I've gained back a bit of the weight I put off in the arena but I can still see my ribs, my twig like arms. The bags under my eyes don't exactly help my appearance either. I turn on the shower, the water coming out in a flash of cold before warming up.

I sigh, trying to let the warm water relax me, to take away all my pain and heartache. I never knew what really pain was like before these last few days. It makes the cut on my forehead in the arena look like a walk in the park. I'd take a thousand slices to the head by the most feared knife thrower in all of the districts then this.

It took about three days for the Capitol reporters to get bored with us, or perhaps bored with our shabby district, leaving with the promise of seeing us again in a few months for the Victory Tour. We saw them off, of course; it would be bad manners otherwise, and Effie would not permit it. So Gale, Haymitch, and I waved them away at the train station, Gale's hand still firmly placed around mine, and both of our faces pulled up in phony smiles as we waved at the departing train. And the moment it was out of sight, that we were momentarily free from the prying eyes of the Capitol, Gale's hand dropped from mine and he walked away from me. He didn't look back.

The tears flow once again and I quickly wipe my face free of them, turning off the shower and stepping out. I've been overly careful to avoid him, taking all the necessary precautions. But it doesn't stop me from hearing the squeals of laughter that come from his house or catching a glimpse of him and a girl with raven hair tied in a braid walking to and from his house.

She's his cousin now, or at least that's the story the Capitol reporters made up. Can't have one of the star-crossed lovers being best friends with a beautiful girl now can they? They probably would have made up the same story from Peeta and me if I hadn't dislodged anything romantic between us at the interview with Caesar before the Games.

I throw open the doors to my enormous walk in closet, grabbing a yellow sundress and pulling it on over my head. I brush my hair quickly as I slip on a pair of flimsy sandals and head back downstairs.

"Ready?" Peeta asks. I nod, trying my best to give him a real smile. He smiles back at me, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the house through town.

It's still relevantly early, the sky a muted pink color, but the air is already thick with heat. Summers are always brutal here in Twelve. A woman and two young children pass by us and I feel Peeta wrap his arm protectively around me as the woman stares, pulling her children closer to her. Away from me.

I keep my eyes focused on the road in front of me, trying not to look into the faces of the mother and her children. I was almost used to the stares I got before the Games, the hatred plain on people's faces as they pasted me. They hated me for my dresses, for the money in my pocket, for being the daughter of my father, the mayor who they placed their blame for their lives on. I had dealt with the glares and scowls my whole life, I was used to ignoring those who hated me from a distance, but this is different.

They no longer look at me with hate, but with fear. They bore witness to what I did in the Games, they saw me kill Marvel and Cato. To them I am dangerous, murderous, I am no longer the Mayor's daughter with her pretty dresses and hair ribbons, I am a Victor of the Hunger Games. I expected as much, I knew things would never go back to how it used to be, I just didn't think it would go to this extent.

The bakery is almost in sight when Peeta looks down at me with a smile on his face. "Race you?"

I feel a genuine smile appear on my face as I playfully narrow my eyes at him, "You're on."

Peeta's smile widens and he takes off without a second look.

"Hey! I didn't say 'go', cheater!" I yell at him, laughter in my voice as I take off after him.

Peeta and I is the one thing that hasn't changed, or maybe it has but for the better. He laughs as I quickly catch up to him, and I stick my tongue out at him as I pass him, my legs pumping fast.

The bell hanging over the bakery door jingles loudly as I throw open the door, throwing my hands up in victory.

"I win!" I cry out as Peeta dashes in, his face red from the run but his smile is still just as bright.

"Madge, so nice to see you." I turn to see Barley Mellark, Peeta's eldest brother, standing behind the counter.

I open my mouth to return the sentiment when I hear someone cursing in the back room where all the ovens are held.

"Can I get some help here!" Barley and Peeta both look at each other in mild amusement, rushing to the back room. They come back not a moment later, a large tray of steaming hot bread and rolls in their hands.

"Geez, Rye, you know not to take the large tray out without assistance," Barley scolds.

Rye rolls his eyes, "Well that's what I was asking for, assistance."

I giggle softly as the brothers continue to argue, shaking my head at their shenanigans.

"Hiya Madge!" Rye says as the boys place the tray on the counter, taking the hot bread careful off the tray and into the display case on the counter. "Back so soon? Did you miss me that much?"

I laugh as he playfully winks at me. "Well of course I did!"

He grins, elbowing his brothers, "See I told you I was her favorite!"

I laugh again, helping them stack the display case full of the fresh bread and other baked goods.

"Good morning boys."

"Good morning Dad," the boys reply.

I look up from my work to see Mr. Mellark descending the stairs that leads to the living quarters above the shop.

"Good morning Mr. Mellark," I say cheerfully.

He smiles at me, rolling up his sleeves to help us. "Well good morning, Madge. Good to see you again. How have you been?"

"I've been well, thank you." I watch as the Mellark men bend over the tray of freshly baked breads.

It's obvious where Peeta and his brothers got most of their looks, as well as their temperament. I've never heard Peeta's mother speak lower than a screech, and she's been known to go into fits of anger and is not one to spare the rod. I've made a number of cold ice packs for the Mellark brothers over the years.

But Mr. Mellark would never raise a hand to his boys, although he is not one to intervene with his wife's methods of punishment either. Still, I find him much nicer company then his wife.

"Well," he says once we cleared the tray. "Which two are working today?"

All at once the brothers point a finger at each other, causing me, as well as their father, to laugh.

"No way am I working again!" Rye says. "I worked four days this week!"

"I got a date with Cecilia, and if I cancel one more time she's going to kill me!" Barley shouts back at Rye. "Besides I worked yesterday, its Peeta's turn."

"I worked yesterday's night shift!"

Laughter bubbles out of me as I watch them fight, knowing at any second it could turn into a wrestling match between the three.

"My money's on Rye," I tell Mr. Mellark jokingly.

He chuckles, shaking his head at his children. "Alright, boys, since you can't decide who's working, Miss Undersee will decide for you."

"What!" I cry out in horror as I watch the brothers turn their sights on me.

Before I can say another word, Barley is pleading his case to me, telling me about how upset his girlfriend will be. Rye carelessly pushes his way in front of him to beg for the day off, complaining of back and neck ache from all the exertion and even rubbing his neck to demonstrate. Peeta, on the other hand, simply yells out, "I'm your best friend!"

I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my grin. This is why I always want to come here with Peeta, the Mellarks-except for the Missus that is- still treat me like they always have. The Mellark brothers have always looked at me as an adopted sister, especially Peeta and Rye, who are only two years older than us.

Barley is four years my senior, but he is still just as sweet as his younger brothers. And even though they argue and rough house as they are doing now, they still always look out for one another and are very protective of each other.

They're still staring at me and I realize I've yet to say anything. I take my hand off my face, trying to appear professional, but my smile gives me away. "While you all make very valid points, I'm afraid I have to save Peeta."

Rye and Barley groan, and Peeta laughs, slapping his brothers playfully on the backs. I grin as I watch them when I hear a loud knocking on the back door of the bakery.

Barley pushes past me and Peeta, to the door, muttering about something. I keep my eyes glued to the tile floor of the bakery as Barley opens the door with a polite greeting.

"The baker here?" An all too familiar voice asks and I feel my whole body go numb.

**Sooo? What did everyone think about the first chapter? I know I'm going more allot more away from the book but I thought it be nice to do something a little different. I know it's short(sorry!) but I'm already finished with the second chapter! So pleeeeease review! As always reviewd will get a kiss from Peeta/Rye/Barley/GALE :D Thanks for reading everyone!**


	2. Stories and Scars

**_Hello everyone! Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed the first chapter of Smoke and Music Notes! Here's the second chapter, Enjoy :D_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES_**

_Chapter 2_

I tense at his voice, and I feel Peeta do the same. Without thinking about the consequences, I take two steps forward, just far enough for me to see the figures standing on the back porch of the bakery.

It's been days since I've been this close to him. He has two dead squirrels in his hand, his trademark scowl placed on his face. I feel a stab of pain go through me as I watch the two hunters stand there, invading my sanctuary. She's standing so close to him that her arm is practically touching his. I feel Peeta's hand wrap protectively around mine, holding me or perhaps even himself back.

Barley glances behind him calling for his father. His blue eyes catch mine and Peeta's, giving us a sad look before calling for the baker again.

I glance back to the door and find Gale's eyes skimming over the ovens and trays of rising dough before his gaze lands on me.

His eyes widen in surprise, and I try to force myself to look away first, to turn and walk away as if it were as easy for me to do it as it was for him. But I can't, even as I feel Katniss's own eyes land on me and Peeta, even as Gale watches me with conflicting eyes that hold no love for me in them, that only hold lies and betrayal, I still can't look away.

But he does, turning away from me as Mr. Mellark walks up to them, a loaf and a half of bread in his hands.

Katniss turns away too, her expression as stony as her counterpart as they take the bread and hand over the squirrels, both of them turning away and leaving without a second glance.

The screen door slams against the wood frame of the bakery, and I try to catch my breath. Forcing myself to breathe as I wrap my arms tightly around my middle, I shut my eyes tightly. Peeta rubs my arms, and I open my eyes to see my own pain and desperation mirrored in his face.

Rye clears his throat loudly, "We'll get started on the next batch of lemon bars," he says, clasping Peeta once on the back, his eyes on the screen door with thinly concealed anger in his face.

Barley does the same, patting Peeta's shoulder as he passes us to go to the front counter. I know how much they must hate to see their brother in pain. Rye turns to leave but quickly pulls me into a warm embrace.

I freeze for a moment, caught off guard but then hug him back.

"You know me and Barley wouldn't lay a finger on a girl, but we can beat the shit out of that guy," he stage whispers in my ear, only half joking.

I let out a fragile laugh, shaking my head. "Thank you for the offer but no thanks."

He smiles at me, patting my back as he did with Peeta before going to join his brother and father in the front of the store. Peeta grabs my hand securely in his, leading me up the stairs to their house above the shop.

The steps are narrow, and I have to walk behind Peeta most of the way up. When we reach the top I find myself in the Mellark's living room with a medium size sofa and a television set off to the corner.

Peeta leads me through the living quarters, although I've been here so many times in the last few days that I could probably lead the way. Mrs. Mellark has been out of the house for the last two weeks because her sister was taken ill. And while I would never wish sickness on anyone, at least the bakery is quiet for once.

I follow Peeta up another narrow stairway before he opens the door to the room he shares with Rye. It's really the attic, but there are only two bedrooms in the house, and all three of the boys couldn't possibly fit in such small quarters. But Peeta and Rye have never complained about their shared attic bedroom.

I plop down on Peeta's hard mattress, closing my eyes tightly. Peeta shuts the door gently, sitting down next to me.

"These Seam kids will be the end of us," he says in an attempt at humor, but his voice is laced with the pain he tries so desperately to keep hidden.

I open one eye to peek up at him, the far off look in his eyes so painfully similar to my own.

"I know," I tell him in reply, before sitting up and throwing my arms around him.

Peeta's arms envelope around me, and I hug him tighter, knowing that we share the same agony.

The day the cameras left, the day Gale turned away from me forever, I slunk back to my new home in the Victor's Village feeling utterly alone. I curled up in a ball on the floor of the pristinely clean kitchen, my head in my hands as the silent tears rolled onto my face.

Not an hour had passed before I heard a knock on my door. I didn't bother opening it, knowing it was probably only Haymitch coming to offer me another cryptic message that did nothing to stop the pain. Except, when my guest opened the heavy wood door on their own, I came face to face with my childhood best friend, his hands full with a loaf of fresh raisin bread and two cinnamon rolls.

He placed the baked goods on the counter, walking straight to me and sitting beside me on the floor. I flung myself in his arms, and he held me tight. He asked me if I wanted to talk, but I shook my head no. I couldn't tell him, not yet.

But one question did bubble in my mind, and I forced myself to sit up, to look him in the face when I asked him simply, "Katniss?"

His expression fell, his eyes getting an empty glare to them that was the parallel my own. "It's not a pretty story, Madgie."

"Neither is mine," I told him, leaning my head on his shoulders.

He sighs just once before he began.

Peeta told me about how after I made him promise to tell Katniss about his true feelings for her, how he almost immediately set out to fulfill the task. He sat next to her in class and during lunch at school, ignoring her annoyed scowl and when asked about his actions, his simply explanation was, "We both have friends in the Games, you don't have to do this alone."

And after much pestering and stubborn hard-headness from Peeta's part, it looked like she was finally coming around to the idea of allowing him to help her. She finally was able to thank him for saving her life all those years ago, when he burnt two loaves of bread on purpose so that he could give them to her, saving her as well as her family from starvation. He told her that he would do it again in an heartbeat.

She introduced him to Prim, who immediately welcomed him with open arms. She allowed him to stand next to her in the square during viewings, even holding his hand tightly through most of it.

When I declared my love for Gale, Peeta was the one that calmed her down, convinced her that it was not an attempt to make Gale look weak, that it would help in both our favors.

The first time Gale kissed me was the same day Katniss kissed Peeta. She had run off after the cameras zoomed into our seemingly loving embrace, leaving Peeta running after her. He caught up with her on the outskirts of town, and he began to rabble on about how there was no reason to be upset, that I would never hurt Gale, that the Capitol supporting our budding romance was a good thing.

When he gently grabbed her arm to turn her around to face him she slammed her lips against his, cutting off his words. It was not the last time their lips would meet.

After that, it seemed as if she was unfazed by our interactions, not bothered by the embraces and kisses.

The final day of the Games, he met the Everdeen sisters walking to the square. Prim ran off in front of them in search of her friends, and Peeta chuckled lightly as her hair bounced off her back, the braided pigtails hitting the younger girl's back.

"She looks so much like you," he told Katniss.

She scoffed at him, waving away his comment. "She looks nothing like me, Peeta."

"Sure she does, especially with her hair like that. That's how you wore it the first time I saw you."

And finally, a decade later, he told her. About how his father pointed her out as the daughter of the girl he once wished to marry, how the girl ran off with a coal miner because his voice made even the birds stop to listen. How when a young Katniss stood in front of the class and sang the Valley Song, she unknowingly captured the heart of the baker's youngest son. Just like Peeta's father was with Katniss' mother, he was smitten.

His confession ended when they were already in the middle of the square, the television screens hanging over them. He willed her to say something, anything, but she avoided his gaze, staring down at her shoes. "Katniss?" he asked, more than slightly fearful of her reply.

But then the anthem began, and her head snapped up to attention, her eyes fixed to the screen. People aren't supposed to talk during the viewing, but many do, whispering a comment here and there or giving their support to someone with a loved one in the Games. This was usually how the viewings went for Katniss and Peeta, their hands held tight as they whispered reassurance to one another.

But as they stood there, it was only silence between them.

It's not till they send the pink birds that Peeta breaks the tension, a strangled gasp coming from his lips. Katniss turned her head to look at him, a question in her eyes.

"The birds, that's how Maysilee died."

Maysilee, my aunt who was killed in the 50th Hunger Games. The commentators were sure to go over her tragic back-story while Gale and I were in the Games, emphasizing her graphic demise.

Katniss grabbed Peeta's hand, giving him support in the only way she knows how as they faced the screen again.

They are not the only ones to remain silent as the finale progressed. The killing of Cato and then Thresh left them all breathless. When the canon sounded, signifying the death of the remaining tribute other than us, the square erupted in cheers and shouts of victory.

But Peeta and Katniss did not join in on the celebration.

"Something's not right," Peeta said, his body rigid as he watched us on the screen.

The girl from the Seam did not reply, but the daggers in her eyes were enough to reveal that she held the same sentiment.

When the announcement revoking the rule change was made, they were the only ones not to react. While others were screaming, or crying, or shouting foul language, they remained motionless, as if they had expected it all along.

"She can't kill him; she doesn't have it in her." Peeta choked out, his whole body shaking without him knowing it.

"Neither does he. He won't kill her." Katniss said, the acid dripping from her voice.

"Won't kill her, not can't. There's a big difference, Katniss."

This time the she had no words for her reply, and they stare at the screen. Neither move until I opened my hand to reveal the berries.

"Nightlock," Katniss said, her voice in sync with mine.

And then the counting begins.

"No! No!" she screamed, covering her lips with her hand as a sob escaped her mouth.

Her knees gave out as she clashed to the floor, and Peeta fell down beside her, his arms around her as he watched his best friend place the berries that would end her life in her mouth.

But then Claudius voice rang through the speakers into District Twelve, announcing us the joint victors of the 74th Hunger Games.

And then the cheers are louder than they were before, and everyone is laughing and crying with excitement. And the huntress launched herself into the arms of the baker, and he held her tight, swinging her around as they both cried in joy.

"They won! They won!" Peeta yelled, a grin on his face as he stared down at the girl he has loved since childhood. "They're coming home."

And that is where Peeta made his fatal mistake. His lips crashed against hers, but, for the first time, they were unmoving against his.

When he pulled back to look at her, he was met with tears that no longer held joy, the grey orbs of her eyes overwhelmed with guilt. "I should go."

"Katniss, wait-"

But being a girl from the Seam, she would not listen to the plea from a baker's son, and she took off running away, her braid trailing behind her.

The day of the recap, she stood by him again in the square. Not touching and not speaking, they stood there with a valley between them that Peeta would do anything to cross. She did not say good bye or even good night when she walked away. She simply left without a word.

The next day, the day of the final interview, they stood side by side once again.

"Katniss, what's going on? Please just talk to me." Peeta whispered to her in desperation as they watched Caesar prattle on to us, asking meaningless questions.

"I don't want to talk now, Peeta."

"Please, I just want to know what I did wrong."

"You did nothing wro-" Her words were cut short as she whipped her head back to face the screen when Caesar asked, "When do you think you realized you were really in love with her?"

Peeta stared at the girl in front of him as he heard Gale say the words: "I'd have to say when I found her passed out in the forest. There was so much blood, and she was so still that I thought I may have lost her… and I just never felt so lost, so hopeless."

He stared at her, watching her face as the newly crowned victor said the words that sound too rehearsed to be true.

For the first time, he sees the cracks in the girl's dismissive demeanor. For the first time, he sees how she watches the boy on screen. How different it is from how she watches him. How she cringes as the boy's lips touched mine.

And how when the boy says, "I couldn't live without her... I can't live without her", she all but wilted right there in the middle of the square.

The interview ended, and everyone is dismissed, people running around rapidly to prepare the celebration of the victors' homecoming.

Soon there were only two figures still standing in the middle of the square: one facing the blacked out screen with her hair flowing gently behind her, and the other staring at the girl with his piercing blue eyes that silently begged her to say something, anything. But, once again, it was him that first breaks the silence.

"You love him."

Katniss' eyes shut tightly, "Peeta, it's not what you think."

He waited for her to continue, for her to explain what it is then, for her to give him the explanation he deserves, but no words are forthcoming.

"So that's why yesterday, when I told you that I…that I love you-"

"I never asked for you to love me, Peeta," she said quickly, her eyes avoiding his.

They stood for a moment in silence again as her words ate at him more then she could ever know.

"I was just someone you could distract yourself with. I was simply a stand in for Gale then."

While Peeta's words should be laced with anger and fury, there was only hurt in his voice.

"No, not like that. I would never…you weren't…I'm just so confused."

"Was any of it real?"

"Yes," she answers automatically, her eyes flicking to his for a brief moment before looking down. "Some of it was."

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what going to be left when they get home?"

"I don't know. I'm just so confused," Katniss repeated, her arms wrapped protectively around her.

Peeta stood his ground, waiting for further explanation that he would not receive. "Well, let me know when you work it out."

He waited a moment longer, perhaps thinking that she'll have a revelation of clarity, or even hoping against all odds that she'd throw herself in his arms and claim she was his forever.

But neither of those two things happened. She simply turned away from him, walking briskly across the square back to the Seam.

Peeta ended his story, his tears beginning to mix with mine as me head rested on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Peeta," I said, knowing exactly how little those words help.

But he still nodded his head, "At least I told her… at least I know where we stand."

He went back to stroking my hair, and I knew what he wanted. He told his story; it's time I told mine. The words poured out of my mouth as I explained it all to him. How it was all an act, and how, like a fool, I fell for it.

I didn't hold anything back, did not leave not one thing unsaid. Even about Maysilee. The secret I had been guarding since childhood now was out in the open to my best friend.

I knew what the possible consequences were: being shipped off to the Capitol, where they would run tests on me like they did with that Annie Cresta, the girl who had went mad after she won the Games years ago. But I couldn't find it in myself to care. If Peeta turned me into the Peacekeepers for being insane, then at least I wouldn't have to pretend I'm alright anymore. I could be as broken as I liked.

And once I was done telling him everything he held me even tighter than before. "I'm so sorry, Madge... for everything. You don't deserve any of this. To lose so much all at once… it's not right."

I looked cautiously up at him, "Then you believe me?"

He nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. "It's not like this is the first time I've heard of her."

I blinked rapidly, my head spinning. Not the first he heard of Maysilee?

Peeta must have sensed my confusion because he quickly said, "You told me about her as kids. That you see her, that she kept you company. You only said it once when we were about six, I think… but I remembered it because I thought you were lying. That you were making it up for attention or something."

I nodded my head slowly, my mind slightly recalling the incident. We were sitting on my backporch, swapping our biggest secrets. He told me he was inlove with a Seam girl. And I told him about Maysilee. He didn't call me a lair or even a freak, he just sat there quietly looking at me. But I knew he didn't believe me, not really. From then on, I hadn't bothered to tell anyone else about Maysilee. And when Mays found out that I told Peeta, she made me promise not to tell anyone else about her. She told me to keep her a secret. She had been my little secret.

"But then I began to watch you when you were alone, and I began to see you interact with her. Nothing major or anything; it was usually very subtle, like a rolling of the eyes, scoffing, or trying to hold back a smile. As if you were reacting to something someone had just said. At first I thought it was just an imaginary friend, especially since you never brought it up again. And as we got older, and I saw you less and less, well… I suppose I thought you grew out of it. But then, during the Games, I could tell she was still with you."

He doesn't say how he could tell but I'm too speechless to ask. He knew all along, and he didn't think I was mad or insane.

"I guess we have no more secrets from each other now," he said looking at me with a kind smile.

I smiled back at him, a small smile and the first genuine one I've had in days. "I guess we don't."

After that he came every day, the same routine: he would knock lightly on the front door, and, if I didn't answer, he would take the liberty of inviting himself in. He brought Rye and Barley with him once or twice, but he usually showed up alone, his arms full of fresh bread. We'd spend the day together, enjoying each other's company and all the free time we have… for now at least.

The thought brings me back to the present, where I still lay in Peeta's warm arms.

I sigh, pulling myself away from him to wipe my tears away. I glance at the small rickety desk that sits by the windowsill. The used schoolbooks that sit atop it mock me with their wrinkled paper and broken leather covers.

The days of sitting around my big empty house or frolicking around the bakery are numbered. It is customary for the district of the winning victor to allow for a two week holiday in which all the schools are closed down to celebrate. The schools reopen the day after tomorrow, and Peeta will be expected to be there.

"You could come with me, you know?" Peeta says gently, already knowing my worried thoughts without me having to voice them.

I scoff at him, rolling my eyes, "Victors aren't allowed to go to school, Peeta."

"I know that, Madge, but you could come eat lunch with us."

Us, as in him and his friends.

"They're all dying to meet you."

No one is dying to meet me, except for maybe the idiotic Capitol citizens who look at Victors as forms of celebrities.

Peeta sighs lightly, "Just think about it, alright? Besides, we still have tomorrow- the last Sunday before we have to go back to our dreary lives."

It's meant as a joke, something to take the sadness from my eyes, but it doesn't work. I'd give anything to go back to my dreary life as the Mayor's daughter, before all of this. Before the thought of spending the whole day completely alone nearly sent me into a panic.

Peeta throws his head back against his pillow, covering his eyes with his arm. "Think about visiting us at lunch, okay, Madge?"

I nod my head even though he can't see me do it, moving away from him to sit on the windowsill overlooking the Square.

The butcher Rooba, a stocky woman close to my mother's age, is standing by the side door of her shop. From my vantage point I can barely see the two Seam hunters talking to her, looking so alike from their boots to their dark hair.

What will I do if I see them walking by me, and I don't have Peeta by my side to help me? How can I keep my sanity with the sounds of laughter that echo into my empty home from my next door neighbor's?

"Will you think about it?"

"Yes," I say quietly as I watch the pair of hunters walk back towards the Seam. "I'll think about it."

Peeta laughs lightly, coming up from behind to pat my shoulder. "You're an awful liar, Madgie."

I freeze at his words, imagining a different boy telling me that, his voice full of sarcasm and a scowl on his face. It was when he came back into the cave the day after he found me passed out in the woods. My fever had been burning up, and my head was killing me. He asked me how I was feeling, and I had lied, telling him that I was feeling alright.

"I know," I say, my voice hollow and empty as I think back to the days in the cave, where I fell even deeper in love with a boy who never even existed. A boy that was just a softer version of the real one… a boy who was thought up as a way to manipulate sponsors and dim-witted Capitol citizens.

I watch as the hunters hand over the kills to the butcher, making their way back to the Seam.

_It's fine,_ I tell myself as I watch them walk side by side. _I don't need him. I never needed him. I'm perfectly fine on my own._

Tears leak from my eyes as I throw my head back and laugh, a mad, vicious, and self-loathing laugh.

I really am an awful liar.

_**Okay, thoughts? I know it's going a little slow right now but it will pick up pace soon. Love it? Hate it? Please review! Kisses from Gale/Peeta/Rye/Barley**_


	3. The Basium

**_I'm so insanely sorry for the long wait! I got chicken pox (at 19! So not cool) and I was out of commission for awhile. Anyways, it was fantastic to see all the feedback and reviews I got, you have no idea how much it means to me! A special thank you to my beta, MirageMeister for editing this chapter at super sonic speeds! As always, Enjoy :D_**

**_DISCLAIMER: I OWN EVERYTHING! (EXCEPT THR HUNGER GAMES) hehe_**

**_Chapter 3_**

We spend the whole day in the bakery. First, we play a card game that I always lose at, no matter how easy Peeta tries to make it for me. Peeta and his brothers try to teach me how to make pumpernickel bread- a task that is much funnier than it sounds due to their joking comments and good hearted humor. We make small talk about things that don't really matter, laugh at jokes even if they're not really funny. We try to smile, faking grins, and we pretend that the ache in our chest isn't there, that the holes left in our hearts don't hurt.

And eventually, as the day progresses- and after much pretending- we begin to believe it. Our smiles turn real, and our laughs begin to have a bit soul in them. When Mr. Mellark gives his sons the evening off, I laugh heartily along with everyone as Barley runs around the small upper apartment in a near frenzy as he tries to quickly look presentable for his now saved date.

Rye, Peeta, and I go sit on the small porch on the backside of the bakery, sipping lemonade that I had made earlier. When the sun begins to set, Peeta runs inside to grab his spiraled notebook and his small beloved set of colored pencils and charcoal, all of which are whittled down to tiny stubs.

I lean my head back against the frame of bakery, watching as Peeta looks serenely up at the sky, his fingers making a masterpiece as they race across the page. Rye taps his fingers against the wooden floor of the porch, whistling a tune softly to himself.

A tiny smile plays at my lips, and, for a moment, it's like nothing has changed, like I'm still the simple Madge Undersee. It's the one thing I've been craving for more than anything. Well, _almost_ more than anything.

Gale's grey eyes cloud my mind, efficiently banishing my smile and making my breath hitch in my throat. I can almost see my fleeting moment of tranquility wither under his unwavering glare.

Peeta, of course, chooses this moment to look away from the orange tinted sky, his eyes finding mine. The smile on his face disappears in an instant, replaced with a look of concern. I try to smile at him, to show him that I'm fine, but my attempt is futile; he quickly puts his pencils back in their case, placing his notebook on top of it.

"I'm going to walk Madge home," he tells his brother.

I open my mouth to protest, but Peeta pulls me to my feet, taking my hand firmly in his.

Rye nods his head, getting to his feet. "Alright, have a good night Madge," he says, pulling me into another hug.

I always dread the walk home. Leaving the warmth and friendship of the Mellarks, knowing that only silence and solitude await me at my own house. The streets have more people on them than they did when we walked to the bakery earlier in the day, what with people trying to get to their homes and families.

They all stare as I walk past them, the disgust and horror so plain on their faces. The worst is when they look away; when they see me looking back at them, they quickly whip their eyes away, as if I don't deserve to make eye contact with them. I don't know why, but, for some reason, this hurts more than when they stare. Peeta keeps his hand wrapped tightly around mine, a reminder that I'm not completely alone.

We arrive at Victors Village just before the sky becomes completely dark. There's a shrill screech that comes from the Hawthorne's house, followed by a round of childish giggles. I open the heavy door to my house, taking refugee from the sounds of the happy family.

I slump down on the plush sofa that Effie had insisted on having ordered from the Capitol for me. It's a shade of pink she called "blush". It seems too bright a color for a couch, but I had no say in the matter. I have no say in anything anymore.

Peeta sits down next to me, opening his arms. I immediately curl up on his lap, trying to relax as he slowly pets my hair.

"I feel so trapped here," I tell him.

"I know you do, but it'll get better, Madgie."

"No, it won't. Nothing will ever get better because nothing will ever be the same. I thought my life was ruled by the Capitol before, but now I really see how it is to be ruled! I couldn't even decorate my own house, Peeta. Everything here is something someone else picked for me. I can't live with my parents, I can't go to school… I can't just go back to my old life."

My tears spill onto his shirt, but I don't have the energy to apologize for it. "I can't breathe here. Every time I try to, I get choked by the smell of dead roses."

Peeta's arms tighten around me, and I know his about to go into one of his uplifting speeches that will be so persuasive that it will force me to believe everything will miraculously work out. But I don't want to hear it, I don't want to believe, because it only makes it that much harder when I wake up in the morning and find that nothing has changed.

I sigh, disentangling myself from his embrace and walking towards the window , trying to politly show him I'm in no mood for a pep talk.

I peer out from the curtains, looking up at the ever darkening sky. "I wish there was a place that I could feel free."

"That's how Katniss described the woods to me once," He says softly, more to himself than to me. "She said it was the one place where she could breathe."

The woods. I had always held a secret desire to go there, to venture out of the confines of Twelve, past the fence that we were warned never to breach. But, as the mayor's perfect little daughter, I never dared.

"Would you go?" I ask, my eyes looking outside but no longer seeing what is in front of me. In my mind, I begin to envision an unlimited sky and thick forest, teeming with life and singing of freedom.

Peeta blinks his eyes in confusion, "Go where?"

"To the woods," I say, a small smile starting on my face as the vision of this place of refuge begins to grow stronger in my mind.

"Are you joking? Why in the world would you want to go out there?" He asks, his tone completely incredulous.

Just thinking about this new place for me to breathe causes my lips to turn upwards even more. Out in the open air, with no Peacekeepers, no people staring as I past, the sound of the Hawthornes' laughter and joy so far behind me.

"Would you go with me?" I repeat, turning to look at Peeta from the window. I look at my friend expectantly, thinking that he would share some of my joy at the realization of this potential freedom.

"Madge, we wouldn't last three seconds in those woods! There are wild dogs and bears and snakes and who knows what else!" Peeta rambles, an uncertain and slightly scared look in his blue eyes, "And what would we do if we got caught? The punishment for crossing the fence is death."

Peeta's words of reasoning begin to shut down the vision of my utopia, and my mind desperately snatches at it before it can fade away into the oblivion of my mind.

"Please, Peeta," I plead, grabbing both his hands in mine as I sit next to him again. My mouth spews out words desperately, "We'll go early in morning, before the Peacekeepers make their usual rounds. We won't be gone too long, I swear! We can go tomorrow-"

"_Tomorrow_? Madge, tomorrow is _Sunday_," He looks at me expectantly, as if that means something tremendously important.

I open my mouth to respond but the words get stuck in my throat. Sunday. The day that Katniss and Gale would bring me strawberries. Their hunting day.

"They traded with your father today. Which means that they won't be going out there tomorrow," I say as logically as I can, but even deep down I am skeptical myself.

"They always go on Sundays. They've probably been stock piling since school starts again soon. That's probably why they had enough squirrels to trade today. But I'm sure they'll be out hunting again tomorrow," Peeta answers, still doubtful.

"Then we'll go after they come back. Still early in the day but not as early as them."

"And what do we say if we bump into them out there? Well, _hello there_, please don't shoot us with your bow and arrows, we were _just _looking around," He says sarcastically to me, frustration seeping into his voice.

I shake my head, refusing to believe that that could happen, "_Please_, Peeta. I need to get out of here, if only for a few hours."

My tone is filled with such desperation that he looks down at me, his eyes filled with worry. "What if something sets off another memory?"

I wince at his words, withdrawing my hands from his. "That doesn't happen anymore; it was only in the beginning, but I'm better now. I haven't had one in days. You know that."

"I do know that, but do you really want to push yourself that far?" He says, the frustration that was in his voice mere moments ago now replaced with concern.

"I'll be fine," I insist again, my tone indicating that I didn't want to talk anymore about the subject. "I promise."

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. "Fine, we'll go tomorrow."

"Really?" I say, my face lighting up.

He smiles slightly, nodding his head once.

"Thank you, Peeta!" I throw my arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

He laughs in my ear, hugging me back before letting me go. "On one condition: you try to get some rest tonight. And I mean really try."

"I will, I promise." I say, my face lightly up with a smile.

We decide that Peeta will come fetch me at seven o'clock, right around the time Gale and Katniss are usually leaving the woods. We will stick moderately close to the fence, and we won't stay longer than two hours.

"Alright then, I'll see you bright and early," Peeta says as he rises from his chair.

I nod my head, an excited smile on my face. "It'll be fun. You'll see."

He mumbles something I don't catch, but he still gives me a smile and a hug before he bids me good night and leaves. I bite my lip as I hear the door close, the excitement and hope leaving my body almost immediately.

It's the same thing every night: when Peeta leaves and I'm all alone here in this grand house, I can't help but feel the pain, the hurt, the agony. The shame. The blood of twenty-two children is on my hands, even those who I didn't kill, who I've never even spoken a word to. They are all gone from this world, dead, buried ten feet below the ground.

I lay on the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest. I don't know why this always happens when I'm alone at night. Maybe it's the darkness, or maybe the silence that makes it so easy for the memories to flood back to me.

I close my eyes tightly, trying in desperation to remember the image of Thresh, Rue, and all the others in the white room with light shining in on all of them. They told me to be happy and to not feel guilty. But how can I not, when I am parading around my big empty house while their still bodies lay in a rotting wooden casket below everyone's feet?

My eyes fly open and I jump to feet, lunging for my piano. I trip on the golden rug that feels like nails against my bare feet, catching myself on the edge of the piano bench.

I don't bother searching for sheet music, instead slamming my fingers down noisily on the keys, forcing away the sounds of screaming little girls and screeching pink birds. I force myself not to blink, focusing only on the ivory keys in front of me. If I blink, if I close my eyes for more than a second, I'll see them. I'll see Rue with a spear sticking out of her, Thresh with that bloody arrow protruding from his body.

The music plays louder, my fingers and wrists aching from the misuse I've put them through these last few days. I'm sure my fingertips are beginning to bruise; they feel tender as I slam them against the keys. The louder I play, the faster the notes pour out of me, which makes it easier it is to tune out their screams, their moans, their last dying words. I don't know how long I play, but, when I stop, my cheeks are soaking wet with tears, and my hands ache.

I look up cautiously at my window, noting that the sky is still pitch black. The promise I made to Peeta rings in my ears, and I grudgingly stand up from the piano bench, my bones making a cracking sound as I stretch out my limbs.

I climb up the stairs to my bedroom in a daze, fear already running ramped through my body. Fear of laying down and listening to this gigantic vacant house, fear that my nightmares will plague me once again.

I don't bother changing out of the sundress I wore all day, instead I throw myself under the covers, pulling the bedspread high above my head.

I close my eyes tightly, saying soothing words to myself since no one else is here to say them to me. "It's alright," I tell myself aloud, "I'm safe here. I'm safe."

I don't know why it feels like such a lie.

* * *

_Darkness. Everywhere, everything is darkness. Pitch black without a scrap of light, without a sliver of hope._

_And then the screams begin. First is a girl's, someone whose voice I don't recognize, but still I try to find her, yelling at the top of my lungs, "Where are you? Where are you!?"_

_Her voice drifts off, fading into the nothingness as I search in the sea of black. A canon sounds._

_A boy's scream is next, loud and strong and full of agony. I cry out to him as I did with the girl, but his creams of cut short by the sound of the canon. And then the little girl's begins. Her voice cuts in though the darkness, and I_know_ with utmost certainty who she is. _

_"RUE!" I shriek at the top of my lungs, running after the sound of her voice._

_"Madge! Help me, Madge!"_

_"Rue! I'm coming, Rue!"_

_A new scream overlaps hers, his voice with a deep timber to it._

_"Thresh!" I yell out, stopping in my tracks as I hear his screams of pain. "Thresh!"_

_"Madge!" he screams as Rue's voice grows even louder._

_"Help me!" she cries._

_"Rue! Thresh! Hang on!" I turn in circles, in a frenzy as I try to pick out where both of them are._

_Another male scream pierces through the air, this one so achingly familiar I feel my bones begin to rattle. "Madgie!"_

_"Peeta!" I howl, running around in circles as the screams go louder._

_My father, mother, Peeta, Ronan, Gale, Marina, Cato, Darius, Rye, Rue, Haymitch, Thresh, Barley, Maysilee._

_All of them screaming, all of them in pain. As more screams start, the canons sound loudly. A canon booms, and Rue's screams end just as Katniss' begin. A never ending cycle of pain and death. A never-ending stream of people I can't save._

_I fall to my knees, my head in my hands as they cry out my name, as they beg me to help them. I surrender to the sounds of their screams and the darkness._

_I can't help them, I can't save them. I can't even save myself._

* * *

I awake to the sound of my front door closing. "Madge! Hey, Madgie, you up yet?"

My eyes flash open as I hear Peeta's footsteps and then his fist knocking on my closed bedroom door. "You awake?"

"Yes!" I call back as I quickly throw off my blanket. "I'm up, just give me a minute."

I swiftly tear off the dress I'm still wearing, shaking off last night's nightmare as I search my closet for something suitable to wear.

Mostly everything in my closet is dainty sundresses or blouses, but, finally, in the far back of my closet, I find a pair of sturdy looking brown pants. I throw them on over a pair of clean undergarments, putting on a short sleeved forest green shirt as well. Hidden behind mounds of heels, sandals, and flats is a pair of brown leather lace up boots that end a few inches below my knees. I pull the boots on over some clean socks, lacing them up as fast as I can. Unable to find a hair brush, I comb my fingers through my hair, tying it back into a ponytail.

Peeta knocks on my door again, and I swing it open, a smile on my face. "Let's go."

Peeta forces me to eat one of the cheese buns he brought before he finally allows me to pull him out of the house; although, because it absolutely delicious, it's a sweet kind of torture.

The sky is a muted pink color, the sun hidden behind a mask of clouds. We cut through the meadow as we make our way to the fence that we were taught to never cross.

My excitement at the thought of going outside of District Twelve quickly begins to fade as we continue to walk. In fact, the closer we get to it the more nervous I become.

_What if something happens to us? What if we're caught? What if we see Katniss and Gale out there?_ All valid fears that Peeta had tried to explain to me last night. But, of course, I wasn't truly listening to him at the time: I was too wrapped up in the idea of breathing fresh air, of feeling free for just a moment.

By the time the fence is actually in view, my whole body is shaking. _You can't turn back now, _I tell myself_, you survived the Games… if you can do that then you can face whatever is behind that fence._

I risk a glance at Peeta, trying to see if he's as nervous as I am. Miraculously, he actually seems to looking excited rather than fearful. Peeta is no coward by anyone's definition, but he is usually the logical one when it comes to adventures such as this.

My breath hitches as we stop in front of the fence. Peeta leans his ear closer to the fence, as if trying to hear if the electricity is on.

"It's off," I tell him, proud that my voice doesn't betray my nerves. "My father only turns the fence on when there are people visiting from the Capitol."

It's only one of the things my father does to try to help his people as much as he can. He knows that some people rely on the food that the woods can provide, and he always tries to leave the fence off for as long as possible.

Peeta nods once then takes a few steps back, his forehead creasing as it always does when he's thinking.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

"How do you suppose we should get over it?"

"Oh," I say, "there's a hole in the fence somewhere, that what Kat-" I instantly close my mouth, giving Peeta an apologetic glance.

He nods again anyways, although I just barely catch the pain that flashes in his eyes. "Alright, then we look for the hole?"

I nod once, biting my lip in self-chastisement as we begin walking along side the fence.

It doesn't take long at all to find the opening; the hole is big enough for a large sized man to fit through. Peeta goes in first, motioning for me to follow. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my resolve, and quickly step into the opening before I can talk myself out of it.

Peeta helps me to my feet, and I am brushing off the dead leaves from my pant legs when I look up. It's better than I ever imagined. Even from staring into the woods all my life, it has never prepared me for this.

The woods itself is alive. It's teeming with trees and bushes and animals all making noises. The bird sing to one another and sing. Squirrels make little chattering sounds. The foliage all around us is beautiful, green in every shade imaginable.

I turn around to look at Peeta, a mystified grin on my face. He laughs at my expression, his eyes hesitant as they look around us, but still I can see the wonder in them.

The sudden need to see it all, to drink it all in overcomes me, and I forget my promise to Peeta that we'll stay close to the fence. I grab Peeta's hand, pulling him deep into the woods. He doesn't object, although I see him eyeing the distancing fence the farther we get.

A butterfly flutters above me, and I let go of Peeta's hand as I try to watch it flutter out of sight. I hear the wind whistling through the trees, honeybees buzzing in their hives. I jump and twirl around, laughing and smiling as I dance to the melody that the forest provides.

I grab Peeta's hand, and he dances with me, twirling me around in a circle.

"I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time," he tells me, a sweet grin on his face.

I laugh, "I haven't felt like this in a long time."

And it's true. For the first time in a _very_ long time, I don't feel the weight of the world crushing me. I don't feel the guilt, the pain, the shame of everything that has happened. For just this one moment, I am free from it all. For just this one moment I am Madge Undersee again.

I feel my smile grow even more than I thought possible. We pass a small open field of wildflowers, and I stop at an overgrown berry bush.

"Careful, they might be poisonous," Peeta says.

I shake my head, "No, they're not poisonous. They're damson berries."

The same berries that my mother used to bake into pies, the same berries that I found in the Games. I pick off one of the berries but drop it to the ground. I don't want anything to remind me of the Arena here.

"Let's keep moving," My voice catches slightly, but Peeta doesn't say anything about it.

We go a little further into the woods, stopping underneath an old oak tree.

"I love the smell of oak," I say, inhaling the woodly smell deeply.

Peeta laughs, "Oak doesn't have a smell."

"Oh, yes it does. How can you not sme-" my words are cut off when I look up at the branches of the tree to find a nest.

A mockingjay nest. A mother bird sits in her bed oftwigs, her black features magnificent as ever.

Instinctively my hand goes up to my necklace, the one that Cinna gave me that has Rue's star pendent on it. I haven't taken it off since I got home.

"Little bird," I murmur quietly, remembering how much Rue was like a mockingjay herself. How she could soar through the tress like she was one of them.

"You okay?" Peeta asks, rubbing his hand up and down my arm soothingly.

"Yes," I say, trying to make it sound more truthful than it really is.

I then take off running, trying to rid myself of the image of a dead little girl and force myself to enjoy the fresh air and freedom while I can. Peeta calls out to me to slow down and I stop to let him catch up, closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath. It's been weeks since my last free breath.

"Gee, Madgie, thanks for waiting for me," Peeta says sarcastically as he reaches my side, his breathing labored and his face flushed.

I laugh, shaking my head at him in mock disapproval, "You need to get in better shape, Dough Boy."

He rolls his eyes at my use of the play-yard nickname that he hated growing up. I giggle, opening my mouth to tease him some more when I hear the distinct sound of voices coming our way.

Peeta's face loses color, and I feel the smile vanish from my face. Quickly and wordlessly, I pull Peeta down to hide behind a large bush that is flanked by two bulky trees.

My heart begins to beat faster, and I feel my palms become sweaty in fear. Stooping down here, surrounded by foliage and wild life, panic running through my veins. For a terrifying moment I'm back in the arena, dread lodged in my throat, my forehead sweaty in anxiety, waiting for Cato to pounce.

But when the owners of the voices finally emerge, instead of finding myself at the mercy the murderous boy from district Two, I find my heart breaking as I watch the scene unfold before me.

They're walking close together again, Katniss's head down as she speaks. She's saying something about the snare line and setting up a new schedule for checking it since school is starting. But I can tell that her audience is less than interested in what she has to say. Gale's gaze is forward, his body tense, his eyes a gloomy grey.

They stop just in front of our hiding place, Katniss turning around to face Gale as she asks him a question.

A question that Gale doesn't hear, even though he is staring down at her with so much intensity in his eyes. I know what's going to happen, I know what he will do next, but still the knowledge of it doesn't help lessen the sharp pang in my chest as I see him lean down.

He kisses her. He presses those lips that-not too long ago, moved against mine- on hers. He kisses her, and it's not for sponsors or cameras or any other reason other than he wants to.

And she kisses him back. I can see, even though her hands stay firmly at her sides. how she leans in to him, how she tilts her head up towards his. And it kills me.

Gale breaks away first, leaning his forehead against hers, "I had to do that. Just one time."

He leaves without another word, walking away back towards the fence without a glance back.

Katniss does not leave so easily, instead she seems frozen in place, her fingers slowly tracing the outline of her lips. I have never felt true jealousy until now. Finally, she walks slowly away, but, instead of heading back home, she heads deeper into the forest, hand still pressed against her mouth.

We don't move. We stay locked in our crouching position, our legs already falling asleep, but neither of us willing to move. Willing to let it sink in, to acknowledge the fact that whatever we once believed in, whatever ounce of hope we were once vainly holding on to is now crushed. There's no going back from here.

Peeta is the first to get up, standing clumsily to his feet. "Come on, let's go home."

His voice is numb and vacant as he offers his hand to me. When I make no move to take it, he stoops down beside me again, stroking the side of my face.

"Let's go home," he says again, this time letting some of the pain flow into his voice.

I nod, but my limbs refuse to move, too wild to my desire to just go back home. Peeta helps me up, pulling me to my feet.

The moment I'm standing upright, I throw my arms around his waist, crushing my body against his. He wraps his arms around me, and I feel his chest shake as he tries to calm himself.

"It's not like it's that big of a surprise," he says, his tone full of self-hatred and ache.

It's not a surprise at all. I shut my eyes tight, trying to suppress the image of how they molded together, the fire in his eyes as he leaned down. How different it was from any kiss he had ever given me.

And suddenly the fresh air that was a moment ago so precious seems to be suffocating me. I can't be here anymore; I can't stand mere feet from where they stood. And so I do what I do best. I run.

_**Eek I know painful right? I'm sorry they had to see this too, but I hope you don't hate me too much for putting Madge and Peeta in agonizing pain! Alrighty so love it? Hate it? PLEASE REVIEW! Kisses from Peeta/Gale(that is if you don't hate him too much right now)**_

_**P.S. B****asium** is Latin for kiss, in case anyone was wondering about the odd chapter title :D_


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